Witch Hunter, Soul Hunter
by Kaen
Summary: Post-Kyoto Crossover with 'Witch Hunter Robin.' Hisoka struggles to come to terms with his feelings towards Tsuzuki, but will he find the time he needs when they've both been targeted in a STN-J witch hunt?
1. Prologue: System Collision

Witch Hunter, Soul Hunter

Prologue: System Collision

By Kaen

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Please don't hurt me for this… I just couldn't help it! If you'd like to download the 'Witch Hunter Robin' series from me, you can find the entire thing fan-subbed on WinMX. I got the entire series within three days, and it's at an excellent quality. There are no skips whatsoever and the subtitles are always perfectly timed. Heck, they even translated the sign for the sushi bar! 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Asato Tsuzuki, currently age 103…"

"103?!" Doujima squawked, her hands slamming down on the table as she leaned forward. "Isn't that really old, even for a witch?"

Sakaki nodded. "Although witches have supernatural powers, they usually age at a normal rate… Their life expectancy isn't typically prolonged like this."

"I'm bringing up a picture now," Michael stated, his fingers dancing expertly over the unmarked keys. 

Within a couple seconds, an image of a cheerful looking man was displayed on the long monitor.

"Eh? Is that really him? He looks so…"

"Young," Robin finished Doujima's thoughts, causing the blonde woman to nod absently as her eyes were still focused on Asato's image.

"He sure isn't bad looking, is he?" Doujima trailed off, her brow wrinkling in disbelief. "It's pretty hard to believe that he's that ol-"

"-This is no candidate for a new boyfriend," Amon interrupted her thoughts, his voice carrying a prominent scolding tone. 

Doujima shot a glare towards Amon, but he was no longer paying attention. Leaning closer to the screen, his dark brown eyes quickly scanned the information that was trailing by.

"Michael, have you found any information regarding this guy's abilities?"

"Ah, it looks like he's been somehow responsible for several large fires recently. There were also two young girls that were reported dead after an encounter with him, as well a Chinese pop star and a fair amount of people that were on the same cruise liner as him. The information on how the people died is pretty sketchy, though. I can't get much more out of the database other than that."

Amon nodded, casting a glance to Robin.

"We'll probably need your ability with this case. I don't like dealing with those possessing the fire element."

Robin's eyes were wide, but she understood Amon's reasoning. She lowered her blue-green eyes and nodded.

"Huh?" Michael started, leaning hit face closer to the computer monitor. The others in the room looked at him expectantly. 

"What is it?" asked Sakaki, resting a hand on the back of Michael's desk chair as he looked over his shoulder.

"It looks like this guy has some sort of association with another man listed on the list. The relationship isn't obvious, though. From this, it looks like they both work for the same… company? I've never heard of such a thing, though…" Michael trailed off, his brow wrinkling in disbelief. 

"Can you bring up information in this other witch, Michael?" Karasuma suggested, taking the lead in the hunt briefing. 

Michael glanced over at her through his yellow-tinted glasses, taking in her solemn expression before consenting: "Okay."

The small room was silent for a minute, save for the low hums of the computers and the occasional beeping as Michael accessed STN-J's database's information.

"All right. It looks like this guy's name was Kurosaki Hisoka, age sixteen when he died."

"So he's dead now?" Sakaki interjected, his face contorting in confusion.

"Why is his record still showing up in the witch data, though?" Doujima asked, her eyebrows raised.

Michael smirked to himself. "As I was saying, age sixteen _when he died_. That was about six and a half years ago, but he's definitely not gone. Records say that he started associating with this guy, Tsuzuki, about a year after he died. Sounds a bit suspicious, doesn't it? What's more is that Kurosaki was the only son and heir of a very wealthy and prestigious family in Kanagawa. It's said that he died of an incurable disease, complimentary to the fact that the family supposedly had a curse put on it sometime in the 1300s."

"So you think that the parents might have made some sort of pact with a witch to bring him back to life, right?" Amon clarified, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the doorframe.

"I wouldn't rule it out," Michael conceded, still scanning the rapidly passing information. "Okay, here's the most recent picture I could find."

The computer beeped again before a slightly blurry image of a young boy, perhaps in his early teens, appeared on the screen. His piercing green eyes were not focused on the camera, but instead were gazing off somewhere to the side. From what could be seen in the photograph, he was wearing a yukata, a traditional Japanese robe for young men. If it weren't for his status on the witch list, one wouldn't suspect him of anything more that naivete. The expression he wore was one of mild surprise, confusion, and… sorrow? There was undeniably a darker emotion laying dormant in those wide emerald depths. 

"So who do we go after first?" Sakaki asked to no one in particular, raising a hand to run through his wavy light brown hair. 

"Who ever we find first," Amon answered sharply before turning around and walking out of the office. "We'll commence operation tomorrow. Everyone should go home for the night."

Noticing the quizzical gazes of his co-workers, he justified, "I have a bad feeling about this. I want everyone to be as alert as possible tomorrow."

With that, he was gone, while everyone else was left trading unsure glances and silently voiced heavy-hearted concerns.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *

He watched the red splash onto the wall, then fade, then splash upon the ivory surface over again. He sighed, rolling over in the hotel bed. Those sirens were definitely drawing closer. Drawing a pale hand to his face, he cupped it lightly over his own mouth as his eyes lowered. He didn't close them, but instead allowed them to linger on the wrinkles that creased the stark white sheets and thin comforter. His thoughts were drifting far beyond the confines of the impersonal room, however, contrary to the way that his eyes seemed to be focused on burning a hole right through the mattress.

He knew it was late. How late, he was unsure, but much too late to go to sleep and much to early to get up. He sighed softly, lowering the hand from his mouth as the shrill sirens faded and rested it next t his face. The way that the blankets were wrapped around his body was probably what had awoken him in the first place, since it felt like they were literally trying to squeeze the life out of him starting with his legs. He had kicked them off in alarm at first, not used so being close to anything. Not to mention that the dream that he had crashed back into reality from… The idea of being restrained or held by anything was terrifying. 

'My pain, his pleasure. His pleasure, my pleasure… My demise, my pleasure.'

He'd never talk about that. Ever. He'd never even mention a word to it to the peacefully sleeping man just a few feet away. Only a few, so why the hell did he feel so distant and alone? He hugged himself tightly, his eyes downcast and unseeing. Tsuzuki… may look as though he were peacefully sleeping, but his dreams were just as frightening as his own. He could feel it, not graphic enough to receive clear mental pictures, but clear enough to feel ever tremor of fear and pain. Every shred of guilt and inferiority fed his own abyss of shame, a shame that he wasn't even sure he deserved. He was a curse to his parents, but could he trust his parents' judgement? Could he even trust Tsuzuki's?

The man had tried to kill himself in the most painful and pitiful way possible.  Normally, Hisoka would scold someone for making decision like this. Normally, he wouldn't care. If that person had succeeded in committing suicide, it meant one less person to invade his mind. But when he saw Tsuzuki being consumed by the immortal flames… It suddenly occurred to him that if his partner died, so would he. It made a lot more sense then, his reasoning must of, because now he couldn't understand for the life of him why he had saved him like that. He had embraced him and cried out to him, even when the contact had filled his heart with a void of despair. He had tolerated it, though, almost as if accepting the dark pain would free Tsuzuki from it. 

He had never done that for anyone. He had never even considered that, someday, he'd be the one to sacrifice himself for another human.  Another human, who could easily abuse him and break him, hurt him and accuse him. Yet he never hurt him, at least not intentionally. Even when he had laid unconscious and defenseless, this man had taken care of him, something that not even his own parents would've done. He smirked cynically, bemused by the thought of how those closest to you would suddenly betray you as soon as you showed the first sign of something they disproved of. It certainly wasn't his fault that he could feel every bit of hatred, disappointment, fear, and even apathy expressed to him. When they beat him, he was lost in a unbearably confusing storm of emotions. He could feel the physical pain, but what hurt more was not knowing whether the hatred in your own mind was self-loathing or betrayal, it was impossible.

So just accept it. Accept it all, and allow the harsh world to take its toll. Let them lash out at you and take away any scrap of dignity you might have left and let them burn it before it before your wide eyes. Then let the ashes soak in the pool of your own blood, just as a final reminder that you will never be needed, wanted, accepted or loved. And then come into a world of the angels of darkness, and wait for them to destroy you all over again. And then… let one embrace you, comfort you, and renounce all those who hurt you. And hide from them to the best of your ability, don't let them understand your suffering, but love them. Cling to them and love them, but never let them know.

Isn't it strange that those we call a devil are the most gentle among us? And isn't strange that he had somehow crept into this devil's bed, desperately pressing his smaller body to the flames of hell?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I'm sorry if you don't understand the first part of the prologue! So that you don't need to go insane trying to figure out what's going on, in 'Witch Hunter Robin', there is a group of people that hunt modern-day witches, who use their often deadly powers for personal gain. They have access to a huge database that lists all suspects, particularly the most recently active ones. Then there's a really spiffed-up witch hunt. This story is founded on the idea that when looking for people who have exhibited extreme supernatural powers, who better than to pinpoint than a shinigami? Organizations will clash! I know, I sound a bit too happy. Anyway, if you actaully read this, please review and let me know what you thought, even if it was just the Hisoka part you enjoyed. Thank you! 


	2. Chapter 1: Nightmare

Witch Hunter, Soul Hunter

Chapter 1: Nightmare

By Kaen

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of support this story already had from just the prologue. Thank you very much to anyone who reviewed! To anyone who's just hanging around to see how screwed up this story will get, I welcome you to the madness.  I hope you're not disappointed!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He could feel the harsh dream seeping into his mind and piercing his skin. He could feel the negative atmosphere that darkened his already bleak and drained soul. He was aware that the cold world he was quickly joining was not his own.

The only thing he didn't know was how to awaken from it. 

A shudder from the smaller body was visible though the thin layer of blankets, followed by a trembling that started slight. Before he could stop himself, he was quivering uncontrollably with some unknown fear, yet was still clinging to the very problem itself. Or, perhaps the more appropriate word for the problem would have been "himself."

"Tsuzuki…" Hisoka breathed out through clenched teeth. 

His eyes clenched shut almost spasmodically and his brow wrinkled with both fear and pain as a sheen of sweat surfaced over his body. Hisoka drew a sharp breath as images and desperate thoughts entered his mind, slowly at first and then rapidly spiraling into a mess of faces, cruel words, pain… and blood. A disgusting amount of blood.

Why was there so much blood? On the floor, the window, the curtains, even splatters on the plain quilt of the bed. The whole scene was dimly lit by moonlight… 

Hisoka suddenly realized what he was witnessing, even before the stream of consciousness focused on the mangled and seemingly lifeless body slouched under the window.  That was Hijiri? No, that was him. Did he really look so pathetic? 'That was quite some job of protection, wasn't it?' he sarcastically applauded himself. Hisoka felt a twinge of shame then, something that exceeded his own thoughts of the revolting image. He focused his mind on it, but it was like approaching a deeply guarded secret that just slipped  further and further away as you traveled down the winding path to retrieve it. And when it was almost within grasp, he saw the iron-clad wall spring up around it. Before it could even register, however, strong arms were luring him to consciousness. 

'Tsuzuki… Do you always keep running from everyone like this? Did you almost trust me, and then pull away at the last second? I could almost understand your dreams, your pain… How come you still hide from me?'

"Hisoka! Wake up! Hisoka!" His body was being shaken more roughly.

Which came first, he couldn't tell, but he cracked open his hazy emerald green eyes to find himself squirming away from the heavy grasp that restrained him. A wave of fear, bordering on panic, invaded his mind, increasing his desire to escape- to escape and hide himself where he couldn't be found… 

"Let go of me!" Hisoka cried without thinking, his eyes seeing something beyond the impersonal hotel room's white walls. "Don't touch me!"

His cry changed pitch halfway through, tears swelling up along the rims of his unfocused eyes. He tried to say something else, but couldn't find his voice in between the breaking sobs. The desperation finally changed into something new, something more subtle. The rough hands were taken away, but not before each single digit had slid over the skin prior to falling slack besides the frantic boy.  Shields were slammed into place and the room quickly fell deafly silent. No, quieter than deaf. Dead silent. 

"Hi… soka? Are you all…?" The words seems to echo of the plain walls.

He heard them as if in a dream, the kind of dream where one falls and falls. The kind where one is screaming until the very end until something disturbs you from the vision. The words sprung from his own throat, cutting off the scream that only he could hear that careened in his mind.

A gentle touch caressed his tear stained cheek, followed by an affectionate wave of reassurance and concern. It was the good type of concern, thought; unselfish and affectionate, never reproaching or disgusted. Lured by the warm feelings, he hazarded blinking the unseeing eyes and forcing them to come to terms with reality. He was pressed tightly to the headboard of the old bed, his own nails scratching obscure patterns into the wood. His trembling prevented him from balancing in the position very long, his tensed muscles giving way as the now limp body tumbled helplessly into lithe arms. Someone was holding him… But he couldn't feel anything other than reassurance and affection.  He was only feeling what he was supposed to. 

Hisoka lowered his eyelids again as he became remotely aware of the fingers in his hair, brushing it gently in attempt to calm his desperation. It reminded him of something from a long time ago, although he couldn't place quite what it was. Concentrating on the touch became his only goal and he racked his mind trying to find the reason behind the strange sensation. 

"Hisoka?" A voice carrying a worried pitch asked. "Are you all right? What happened?"

A long pause followed the question, Hisoka forcing himself to understand the words by analyzing the meaning of one at a time. The seconds seemed to drag into ours before an explanation was offered.

"That's what happens when I synchronize with people, I guess," he answered, rather offhandedly given the situation. "I just saw what you saw and felt what you felt. It's only affects me because I can't control it, though. I don't like having other people's pain flooding me."

He narrowed his eyes irately, boring into Tsuzuki's pained ones to hide the sentence his mind had added: 'I have enough of my own…'

Another silence followed, the situation becoming more and more awkward now that they were both realizing that Hisoka was in Tsuzuki's bed instead of his own.  Being held so tenderly by him didn't help matters much either. 

"I'm sorry," Tsuzuki apologized abruptly, releasing his partner's still trembling body from his hold with an underlying shove. 

Hisoka barely caught himself on his elbows before slamming face-first into the mattress. He blinked in confusion, unsure of what to do at the sudden loss of contact. A door slammed shut and the lock clicked into place, a small noise amplified infinitely by the tenseness of the moment. Hisoka remained in that same position on the bed for several minutes, not seeing, hearing, or even thinking.  The only thing that formed in his clouded mind was the droning question, "What do I do now?"

And, somehow in the depths of his consciousness, he knew that the question was not his own. It was simply traces of his synchronization with Tsuzuki. He wasn't the one who was lost, frightened, and ashamed. He most definitely wasn't the one driving himself mad with confusion. And it certainly wasn't he who choked out his partner's name between ragged breaths and sobs.

Or was it?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gah! I'm sorry this chapter was so miserably short. I really liked the ending it had, though. I just felt like if I went on anymore in this part, it would ruin the entire chapter. So! I plan to have another chapter or two focusing on Hisoka and Tsuzuki before the lovely little witch hunting crew gets involved. I think there needs to be some build-up before the main plot of the story is obvious, ne? I hope you agree! I'm just rambling now, though. If you actually read this, pleas review and let me know! Thanks a bunch! 

-Kaen *^^*


End file.
